


Our Garnet

by daisybrien



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Birth, Drama, F/F, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, Human, Love, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 15:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4792904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daisybrien/pseuds/daisybrien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s strangely calm, almost too peaceful, and it makes Ruby want to scream; surely this should warrant a scene of chaos, of grating cries and scrambling nurses, panicked orders and jittery, trembling hands. But there is no interruption to the delicate calm that seems to grip the room, so opposite to the fiery beat of her nervous heart.</p>
<p>Panic strikes not only as their baby arrives, but as they realize that parenthood is coming to greet them like a slap to the face.</p>
<p>(Rupphire Bomb 2015)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Garnet

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't read the tags, this fic is going to contain certain mature themes such as birth and pregnancy. So if you're some really young kid snooping the 'net for some Steven Universe stuff and somehow stumbled across this, or you're too young to fit or understand the ratings, or too young to be using the site in general, then you're probably too young to read this. Come back and visit this site when you're a little older. It will still be here, don't worry. We can wait.
> 
> For the Rupphire Bomb

In all her life, Ruby doesn’t think she will ever been more terrified than she is in this moment. She doesn’t think she will ever experience a nagging fear like this again.

It’s awful how badly the peace in the room hides the tension running electric through the air, so palpable that she could probably reach out to touch it, feel her hand brush against it like a spider’s web. What is strange is the lack of chaos, how such a nervous energy can still be alight in a room blanketed in nothing but silence, the shining white walls in the dim lighting and the stifling buzz of impatience pressing down around them like a suffocating weight. It startles her the same way a rattling crash would, an explosion that shakes the ground and hints at dire outcome. She shifts in her seat, feels the sweat grow sticky between her thick thighs and the wood of the chair, heart palpitating in her chest in an irrational anxiety that would have her pacing and raging if it weren’t for the grip holding her in her place, the need of the person lying prone, in pain on the bed. 

It’s strangely calm, almost too peaceful, and it makes her want to scream; surely this scenario should warrant a scene of chaos, of grating cries and scrambling nurses, panicked orders and jittery, trembling hands. But there is no interruption to the delicate calm that seems to grip the room, so opposite to the fiery beat of her nervous heart, and the contrast of it makes her feel of an unreasonable inadequacy in her inability to quell the burning need to throw herself into her flurry of panic when, of all the people in the room, she should be the one keeping her head from running in circles.

The din is permeated by the smallest of groans, a soft, pained hum that sounds under Ruby’s chin. It does not break the room’s stifling composure, only adds a dimension to the dreamlike image in front of her, seeming to throw her back into reality instead of letting her float off into the tinkling music of grainy ocean sound from a beaten up recording and the rhythmic beeps from the monitors lined beside the bed, mingling together. It grows into a soft, musical cry, the soft melodic voice merely a mask, a meager attempt to control the ear splitting scream that undoubtedly wants to replace it. It is almost animalistic, but by no means violent; it is primal, a result of pure first instinct wrapped into the construct of human expression, creating a note that encapsulates the mind’s tenuous communion with body in such a state of vulnerability and human creation as it rings through the air.

Ruby feels the hold on her hand grow unbearably tight with the swell of it, slowly but surely rising into a crescendo, true agony threatening to make the note crack and spoil. She looks down, heart twisting in her chest as she watches Sapphire grit her teeth below her, left to pant and sweat her way into oblivion on the bed she lies on, spread eagle and bare from the waist down. Nails dig into her palms, Sapphire hissing in a breath through chapped lips before shakily resuming in her soft moan, a pitch higher this time, growing coarse as pain begins to wrack her thin frame.

“Sapphire,” Ruby breathes, her voice wobbly. She reaches out a trembling hand, slowly brushing over the bangs that cling to Sapphire’s forehead, sticky and damp with the sweat beading along her brow. Her fingers push against the cloth over Sapphire’s eyes, still dripping, cold water droplets streaking shining lines across her dark skin. It uncovers one grimacing eye, iris shining with a bright blue hue as it stares at Ruby in exhausted adoration.

“Hey, Ruby.” The words are weak, barely heard above the hum of machines and the nervous ringing in her ears. They are said on a feeble grin, inklings of laughter still lining their shaky sound as the nimble hand in Ruby’s grasp gives a small pump of reassurance. It is merely another mask, the smirk faltering as Sapphire tries and fails to hoist herself up on her mountain of pillows, the bulk of her belly weighing her down. If Ruby was a jittery mess, she couldn’t imagine the thoughts running rampant through Sapphire’s mind, no doubt emphasized by the incredible pain; she can only sit and admire the ability to feign such composure even after hours of stress and labor.

“You holding up okay?” Ruby asks tentatively. The hand on Sapphire’s forehead shifts again, the tips of her fingers brushing tender lines into the tacky skin.

“Absolutely not,” Sapphire says. Her body jolts, what Ruby thinks is meant to be a snort that breaks into a muffled groan as her face twists in discomfort again, lips pursed at she forces out an unsteady huff of breath. The muscles in her arms grow tense, the sinews of her neck rising under the skin, taut like wires as another groaning hum drifts from out of her throat, almost too tranquil and soft to stem from the stiff body she possesses. Her body twists, but Ruby does not see it as something from pain - although her own stomach twists violently at the thought of it - rather that of the terrifying strength she is able to muster at such a crucial time as she pushes, Ruby’s hand moving to hold the back of her head as she leans forward in an endless, straining push.

“That’s it,” someone soothes, “you don’t have to push so hard now, we’re really close.” The voice begins to prod at Ruby’s brain, pulling her attention away from Sapphire’s soft drone to the foot of the bed where the midwife sits. 

Rose is massive, all big breasts and burly arms and stomach pulling at her scrubs, her hair pulled back into a mess of curls that frames her head like a pink, fluffy halo. Despite her sheer size, she bleeds of an aura of peacefulness and ease, the mere sight of her enough for calm to bleed through their body. She raises one arm up to brush the sweat from her brow, smudging the eyeliner fading in the corner of her eye before kneeling down again, large, gentle hands working with something between Sapphire’s legs.

Ruby turns her head away, feeling her stomach twist at the sight, not ugly but still enough to shock her into helplessness. She does not want to be useless now. Instead, she turns back to her partner on the bed, whose melody begins anew, reached a grating crescendo as she gives another push. The note threatens to fall out of tune, seeming to grow slightly flat as her hand grips Ruby’s the hardest it ever has since the morning. But she finds it again, voice still smooth like silk even as pain floods through her.

“You know,” Ruby smirks, “you don’t exactly need to practice singing right now.”

“Don’t,” Sapphire pants, “tell me how to cope with this.” Her voice is soft, monotonous as she catches her breath, and if it weren’t for the way her teeth grind and for the nails digging half moon marks into Ruby’s palm, she could have easily been read as being completely serene. 

“I guess you’re right,” Ruby says, “you seem to be almost completely fine to me.”

“Can’t you see I’m engulfed in pain right now?” The question is uttered in a huff, with round cheeks and a grimace. Still, the corner of her mouth twitches for a  
moment into the smallest of smirks, and Ruby can’t help but bark out a laugh. She’s thrust back into her work soon after; her voice is barely able to sustain her moan, the need to scream boiling under its calm exterior as she presses forward again.

Ruby almost prepares another quip, but loses her resolve once she sees Sapphire’s face as she gives a weak gasp, her head leaning back onto the bed again. Her one eye peaks out from beyond the colourful bangs hanging over her face again, blue lightning bolts shooting across the night sky of her forehead, sweat dappled across it like twinkling stars. It looks to Ruby, something like fear swirling in the depths of her pupil before being blurred by watery tears.  
Ruby does nothing more than squeeze her hand comfortingly, fingers brushing the back of her head through sweaty strands of hair. She winces, watching Sapphire lean forward again, one hand maintaining its death grip on her, the other latched around the frame by the side of the bed, knuckles white and tendons tight beneath the skin. 

The room seems to erupt into noise around the two of them, the crushing silence replaced with a disorienting cacophony, the room seeming to spin around their heads even in the relative stillness, only perceived by the chaos they make it out to be in this final moment of anticipation. There are voices, too many to count, too many to make out, Rose’s murmurs indiscernible from the pressing encouragement of the nurses around them. Even Ruby’s own voice is left unidentifiable to her own ears, desperate cries of encouragement and love and amazement melting into the flurry of noise. She risks a glance to the end of the bed, and there is something there that she can barely see over Sapphire’s knee, messy and knotted but so real and substantial that she can’t help but squeak her own little cry of triumph. There is love already flooding through her heart, wracking each trembling limb as it pulses through her veins incomparable to any fury she has ever known.

There is no quiet hum this time, discarded in favor of one final staccato of a cry, forlorn and desperate. It echoes through the room, reducing everyone else into silence before slowly tapering off weakly, no deep change to signify the end, rather the quietest whisper of a sigh of relief as body flops over bed. 

Silence reigns over them again, but peace is far from being found as they sit, tense and expectant; there is a moment of absolute emptiness, everyone left terrified with their thoughts, every possibility growing worse and worse as they flit through Ruby’s head in the split second she is left to gape there, that single moment stretched into an eternity of agony and heartache.

It is ended by a single cry.

It starts as nothing more than a hiccough, the sound of a cough no stronger than a sigh, the simple sputtering enough to send the room into a flurry of relieved ecstasy. The room seems to erupt again, alight with joy, a mewling cry sounding behind the cheers and the sobs. She hears Sapphire give a laugh, the same, bubbling giggle she had fallen in love with, the croon of the midwife, and the assurance of health in the sound of shrieking wails.

Rose passes a bundle up into Sapphire’s arms, a squirming mass of stained, almost bloody blanket and tossing limbs with the tiniest, most adorable hands that Ruby has ever seen. Her vision blurs, body shaking with sobs as her hands move to swipe the tears streaking her blubbering face, pulling at her afro; Sapphire is no more composed, still laughing with a radiant smile as tears mingle with the perspiration on her cheeks. 

Sapphire cradles the bundle delicately against her, chubby fingers reaching out to grasp her collarbone as she rocks back and forth, still prone on the mattress. Her voice is a musical lilt that breaks through the overwhelming tears, the introductory note of a lullaby stunning them all into awed shock. The infant quiets immediately at the voice, recognizing it so clearly after months hearing it even before birth, furious screams dying down into tiny grimaces.

“Sapphire,” Ruby says through her tears. It is the only word she can muster, one hand reaching out to brush through the crown of wispy corkscrew curls peeking out from of the bundle.

Their eyes meet over the baby’s head, tearful and glowing. Sapphire smiles serenely, pulling Ruby closer, one slender finger pulling back the blankets wound around the writhing thing. She reveals a chubby face, the traces of birth still staining the deep crevices of her face. There is a round nose and tiny lips that curl in and out as she whimpers, one balled up, dimpled fist jerking towards the dark birthmark smack in the middle of her forehead like a third eye.

“Look at her,” Sapphire breathes. Ruby nods, leaning down to peck a gentle kiss to the tiny mark. “Look at what we created together.”

“She’s perfect,” Ruby croaks. She winds one arm beneath Sapphire’s body, the other pulling her close, the three one warm mass together on the bed. She presses her face into Sapphire’s shoulder, letting herself sob as she showers the two of them with kisses.

Sapphire is the one who interrupts her, and she feels herself being slowly pulled out of their little bubble of joy; reality is a flurry around them, bodies crowding around them to clean and care. Ruby pushes them out of her mind again, unimportant for the moment. 

“We should name her,” Sapphire says slowly. Her eyes are tired, lids blinking lazily, and Ruby can tell that she isn’t all there, lost in the haze of exhaustion and new parenthood. She smirks, the smallest giggle tumbling from her lips. “We should call her Garnet.”

Ruby can only muffle her laughter into Sapphire’s shoulder, the world dark around her as she smothers her face into her gown, no doubt stained with tears. Her body trembles, and she can no longer tell what is a laugh or a sob, everything blending into one ball of overwhelming emotion.

“You’re tired,” she snorts, sniffing as she looks up. “Delirious from the pain. There’s no way we’re going to curse our kid with names like ours.”

“I’m being serious,” Sapphire smiles. She falters a bit, her grin growing uncertain, and Ruby is almost sure she is telling the truth before the world around them crushes back in again. There are arms reaching out for the bundle, threatening to take it away from them no matter how many times they remind them of its safe return; eventually they pry the baby from Sapphire’s reluctant arms, leaving the two together.

“She’s so beautiful,” she says wistfully. 

“Yeah,” Ruby says. She squeezes onto the bed, pulling Sapphire to rest her head on her shoulder, who melds against her body perfectly even as nurses poke and prod her.

“Our Garnet.” The words grow weaker, and Ruby fights the urge to snort at them, simply nodding as she places a hand over Sapphire’s forehead, willing her into restful sleep.

“Our Garnet,” Ruby repeats reluctantly, shaking her head as she feels Sapphire nod off against her; she won’t admit that she is already warming up to the idea of the name, especially when it flows so tenderly on both their lips, at least not until a birth certificate is placed under their noses. For now, she does nothing but cherish the warmth of Sapphire’s form beside her as she is lulled to sleep, patiently waiting to see the joy light up in her bright eyes as she wakes up to the reality of their baby again. 

Finally, as the chaos dies down, she is giddily accepting as her baby is snugly fit into her awaiting arms for the very first time. She is left to stare amazed at the chubby limbs and tiny fingers that leave her breathless as they grasp her own with a determined strength. It leaves her with an awed reverence of unending love, leaves her with a tenderness for doting and care, and she can’t help but be fearful yet infinitely anticipating of the incredible journey their Garnet has no doubt already laid ahead of them.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing steven universe can I get a heck yeah.


End file.
